


nights

by poalimal



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Winter Soldier (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous Relationships, Emotional Infidelity, Gen, M/M, Misgendering, Unresolved Tension, polyamory?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-26 04:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15655578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poalimal/pseuds/poalimal
Summary: Soldier was chatty that night.





	1. SAPPORO.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired in part by suzukiblu's do you wanna be my sidekick, sidekick.

 

The two of them undressed in near darkness. Soldier was chatty that night.  
  
'The brain knows how to take the body apart,' they said.

'Clothes that fit the form cut off the blood,' they said.

They asked, 'when you take them off, what does the brain say?'

Sam paused. His shirt had landed somewhere short of his suitcase, down onto the floor. He felt three or four bruises blaring in symphony all across the back of his ribs, way down to his thighs. Even on a good day, the wings hurt him bad.

It had not been a good day. 'Ouch,' he guessed.

'Itch,' Soldier corrected, sitting down heavy on their bed. 'Quickest way to get you to spread the blood around--' they grunted. _Thump_. _th--ump_ (their boots hitting the wall). '--is to scratch. You don't _actually_ have to fucking scratch-- in fact you'd be better off rubbing the area - but the brain knows there's no itch you don't want to scratch.'

Where was this going? Sam didn't know Soldier to speak so...aimlessly.

'The brain,' said Soldier, 'plays tricks to get shortcuts to what it wants. Food when you're not hungry, sleep when you're not tired-- touch...' They paused. '--when you may only be cold.'

Sam went to turn on the lamp, and felt a sudden stiffening of the air between them. 'I think I have an extra pullover here somewhere,' he said. 'Could I get the light?'

'Go 'head,' Soldier said, after a pause.

The light, then - between them.

Sat there before him, Soldier looked at him, eyes low and watchful. They still wore their trousers, their heavy belt. The knuckles of their right hand reddened from use, hot water...blood.

Sweat dotted their brow.

'I'm not cold, Sam,' Soldier said, softly. Their eyes warm: an open question.

_Thump_. _Th--ump_. (Sam's heart, against the cage of his ribs.)

Sam turned away gradually, bracing himself against the heft of his own desire. 'It's hot as hell out here,' he said, slumping his arms to pull off his undershirt. 'I would hope you wouldn't be cold.'

After a moment, Soldier sighed. 'Yea,' they said; 'yea.'

 


	2. KHARKIV.

 

Soldier was--

'--kind of like the paperwork of the operation,' Bucky said one day. It was just a joke: Soldier tended to feel most comfortable during missions. Sam didn't know how to say he didn't find it funny. He had his own shit, sure. But he didn't have another person in his head.

Maybe that was what bothered him so much about it - the idea of Soldier just being a means to an end. An in-between, rather than a whole 'nother person. Just another 'he'.

'Does it bother you?' Sam asked, shrugging off his pack. 'How we speak about you, when you're not here?'

Soldier put the charges down and stared up at Sam, their gaze catching him close and holding him still.

In the dim light of that empty, awful lab, Sam felt seen all the way through.

'Sam,' said Soldier, 'how do you know when I'm not here?'

You say my name all the time, Sam thought. When I'm the only here, the only one speaking - you say my name.

Sam imagined actually saying that - petulantly, _you say my name, I must be special_ \- and balked.

'I don't,' he said. 'Sorry. Never mind.'

'I'm not asking for an apology,' Soldier said dismissively. 'I want to know what you think you see.'

Sam squatted down, and rummaged without purpose through his pack. '...You're different with Steve,' he said. 'Your laugh. Like it's not real, all the way.'

Soldier huffed out a laugh, short and cutting. Sam was grateful all over he hadn't said anything else. 'That's as much me as it is the other guy. Steve worries when I don't play the role right, is all.'

Sam felt the sweat of his neck drip down his spine. It was hot as fuck, down here in hell. 'I don't think he'd want either of you to have to play a role.'

'Yea, well, that's the great thing about other peoples' irrelevant opinions,' said Soldier breezily, 'they're not even remotely my responsibility.' Great, fuck you too, dude.

A sudden clattering clang echoed out, from walls and walls away. Soldier stood to their feet, holding a staying hand at Sam as they peered close around the room.

'You tilt differently,' Sam realised.

Soldier shot him an irritated look. Sam sent it right back. 'I tilt differently? What the fuck are you talking about,' Soldier said.

'You asked me a question, dude,' said Sam, hands up. 'I'm just giving you an answer.'

'Well, consider the question withdrawn.' Soldier kept muttering to themself. ' _I tilt differently_. Tch. Fuck you.'

'All right, now you're just getting nasty,' said Sam, annoyed. 'You put yourself between me and whatever's wrong in the room. Bucky does it with Steve out of habit, but you do it with me 'cus you don't trust me to get the job done. That's all I meant. I don't think I've gotten you all figured out or whatever, so fuck you right back.'

They finished setting up their charges in relative silence. Sam checked his wrist. They had 27 minutes left before Fury did his thing: if they got above-ground in the next 12 minutes, Sam could fly them clear of the explosion zone.

'I do trust you,' Soldier said suddenly. Sam looked up. The thick of their shoulders; the dust of that place.

'I want you safe, is all,' they deflected. 'He wouldn't forgive me if I let something happen to you.'

Sam rolled his eyes. 'If it's about trust, it's not about letting,' he said. 'It's about asking. If you think I need help, you ask. And if I need it, I'll ask.'

Soldier stared at him hard for a few minutes. Sam felt each second like a pen pressed into his spine. They had time. He had to trust - that they had enough time.

Soldier smiled suddenly, shook their head. 'You need a lot of things, Sam. And you don't ask for a single one of 'em.'

'Trust that I know best what I need and what I want,' Sam zipped up his pack, standing to his feet, 'and I'll go after it when I'm good and ready. Is that ok with you?'

Soldier shrugged. 'Nothing to do with me,' they said. And they slung their pack over their shoulder and walked out the same way they came in.

'Course not,' Sam said, flat. 'Nothing to do with you at all.'

 

* * *

 

'All right, this sucks,' said Sam, after about 43 minutes of icy silence between him and Soldier on the plane back. 'I like you and I care about you. Can we be cool now?'

'Aww, babe,' Bucky croaked, pursing his lips. Sam tried, unsuccessfully, not to smile. 'You really like me?'

'Yea, yea, yea,' Sam muttered, kissing him. Soldier could be a real fucking coward sometimes. 'You're all right.'

 


	3. MIXCO.

 

'What'd you do to Soldier?' Bucky complained. 'I'm runnin' out of clothes to get blood all over.'

'Maybe if you didn't let these Heilheads get so close to you,' Sam said thinly. An old argument; Soldier preferred long-range weapons.

Bucky did not.

'And miss the look on their faces when they realise they're 'bout to die in pain and agony?' Bucky said lightly. 'Yea, I don't think so. And don't avoid the question. Wasn't so long ago I couldn't get a single moment alone with you. So what's been going on with you two, huh?' He nudged closer, and sank against the side of Sam's body.

'What, you getting sick of me?' Sam murmured, stretching his arm around him. Bucky turned his face into Sam's chest, and kissed him through his shirt. Sam swallowed the words that wanted to come out. It was too soon.

'I don't think I could,' Bucky said, low. Sam rested his eyes. 'Sam.' Sam opened his eyes to Bucky's face, close and open with concern. 'Please. Tell me.'

Sam sighed. 'I love you,' he admitted.

Bucky quirked his lips: not quite a smile. 'And what about the rest of it,' he said.

'What rest of it,' said Sam, caught. 'That's not enough?'

Bucky just looked at him. 'You're hiding something you think is worse behind something you know is true.' He lifted up one side of his mouth. 'I wish you hadn't done that. I wish you wouldn't do that to me.'

'Would you believe I learned how to do it in therapy?' Sam said.

'I'll believe you,' said Bucky, unblinking. 'Whatever you say to me. I'll believe you. So please stop lying.'

For a long time, Sam didn't say anything. 'I'm serious about you,' he said.

'Yea,' said Bucky.

'You know I'm serious about you.'

'I do.'

'And when we started this, we both thought-- we both thought we would be lucky if Soldier and I ever even got to be friends.'

'Uh-huh,' said Bucky, drawn out. 'So what's changed? Are you two fighting again? Is that it?'

'No, I,' Sam paused. 'I think I could be serious. About Soldier, too.'

Bucky flinched.

'If that's not ok--' Bucky sat up and away from him. Sam couldn't stop talking. 'I'm-- we didn't do anything, babe, I don't want you to think-- Soldier just-- said something, they implied that they would be--open. To something more, maybe. And I started thinking about it. And I guess I just haven't been able to stop.'

'Started thinking what,' said Bucky, bitterly, 'that we're not so different after all?' Sam had never seen the look on his face directed at him before. 'I wish you hadn't told me like that, Sam. I wish you hadn't told me.'

Sam's heart was currently at the bottom of his toes. And yet he felt remarkably calm.

'It's not about telling,' he said softly. 'I'm asking. You can say no. It doesn't have to mean the end of anything unless-- unless you want it to. Hey. Nothing has to be final.'

Bucky laughed. 'Cut the therapist voice out, Sam,' he said. 'You've been thinking about being unfaithful for, what, for months? Is that right? You wouldn't have even told me tonight if I hadn't made you, but now you're pretending that you've done the mature thing by laying out all your cards? Fuck you, Sam, I swear to God. I swear to God.' Sam didn't say anything. 'And how am I supposed to react to this? Like, what was the thought process here. How did you think I would take this?'

'I knew you would be honest,' Sam admitted. That's why he'd kept putting it off.

'Hey, at least one of us is,' Bucky said, getting to his feet. 'I need to be alone right now.'

 


	4. LAGOS.

 

The door slid open behind him. Sam didn't turn around or take his eyes away from Lagos, spread out and lit up before them like a sky. He loved Lagos like he loved Kingston like he loved Atlanta.

He wanted to go home.

'Fancy meeting you here,' said Soldier, behind him.

Sam turned his head to the side. 'You done running from me?' he said. 'Because I'm tired, babe. I'm real tired.'

Soldier came up to the railing beside him. 'Oh, it's "babe"now, is it?' they said softly, slowly. 'I wasn't "babe" before, Sam.' And then, as if Sam hadn't been thinking about Japan for months: 'You know, when you shot me down.'

'You weren't "babe" before because I don't run around on my man,' said Sam, waspish.

Soldier shook their head. 'I love how fucking condescending you get about being in the wrong,' they said.

'Yea,' Sam admitted, letting out a grin. 'It's kind of great, isn't it? Totally throws people off.'

'Man, fuck you,' said Soldier, laughing outright. Their hand grazed Sam's on the railing. Throughout his whole body: a shock.

Above them, then, the moon; below them now, the lights. Between them - years.

'Promises, promises,' Sam sighed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my life / been running from you all my life.   
> Been waiting on you all my life.   
> All my life / you've been missing all my life.


End file.
